"Is that lunch?" I asked in relief, making a step towards the door.
"Yes, my lord," said Jones; "but not your lordship's lunch. It will be laid here immediately, my lord. I will go at once and convey your invitation to your lordship's friends."
He hastened from the room, leaving me dumbfounded. I did not enjoy Jones as much as I had anticipated. In a moment a pretty parlour-maid arrived to lay the cloth. I became conscious that I was hungry and thirsty and travel-stained, and I determined to let things slide till after lunch, when I could easily set them right. The sunshine was flooding the room, and the sea was a dance of diamonds. The sight of the prandial preparations softened me. I retired to my beautiful bedroom and plunged my face into a basin of water.
There was a knock at the door.
"Come in!" I spluttered.
"Your hot water, my lord!" It was Jones.
"I've got into enough already," I thought. "Don't want it," I growled peremptorily; "I always wash in cold."
I would have my way in small things, I resolved, if I could not have it in great.
"Certainly, your lordship; this is only for shaving."
My cheeks grew hot beneath the fingers washing them. I remembered that I had overslept myself that morning, and neglected shaving lest I should miss my train. There were but a few microscopic hairs, yet I felt at once I had not the face to meet Jones at lunch.
"Thank you!" I said savagely.
When I had wiped my eyes I found he was still in the room, bent in meek adoration.
"What in the devil do you want now?" I thundered.
